


The Angel in the House and The Devil in the Yard

by hydesboy



Category: Jekyll & Hyde - Wildhorn/Wildhorn & Bricusse & Cuden/Bricusse, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: emma can and will fight but she knows which battles to fight, emma deserves better, hyde is a creep but goes nowhere near her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:54:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27797272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydesboy/pseuds/hydesboy
Summary: Newlywed Emma Jekyll has her first encounter his her new husband's strange assistant, and it was far from a polite how-do-you-do.Very much an au because Henry transforming and dying at the end is horribly underwhelming
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	The Angel in the House and The Devil in the Yard

There were only two keys to the manor, one that hung about her husband's neck at all times and the second that presently sat upon her vanity where she had left it before she donned her nightdress for the evening. Emma knew that her key was safe, and that Henry would not have misplaced his, and with the servants sent home for the evening by her insistence that they rest, she was all by her lonesome in the house for the first time since the wedding almost a month ago.  
She was all alone as the beast just beyond the front door howled and sent ice racing through her veins with each and every moment that dared pass in hopeful anticipation that he would simply grow bored and pass her by.

"Come now, little love," a voice from just past the door purred, his voice a grating rumble that sent her shuddering and shaking like a leaf in an autumn breeze, "This is hardly how we treat guests now, is it?" The way his nails - oh goodness, she certainly hoped it was just his nails, the alternative being all the more frightening - tapped just audibly upon the little covered window certainly did nothing to settle her nerves.

"This is hardly an hour for guests, sir," the woman declared, hoping that her voice did not betray her alarm when she needed all the strength she could muster, "I must ask you to leave, you shall wake my husband, and he is a very busy man." Oh, how she wished in that moment that she shared the same skill of silver-tongued lies that her husband did, but her voice did not waver quite as much as she had feared it might.

"Telling lies?" the beast exclaimed, sounding too convincingly hurt as he did, "No, no, I don't think there's anybody there at all. I wager your husband shan't return until long past sunrise. Am I wrong?"

There was something too teasing in the man's disposition, and that rubbed the woman the wrong way. Was he treating her fear as a game? What sort of man is he that he would come calling past midnight? How could he have known that Henry had been called away on urgent last minute business? Unless he had been the one to call him away under some false emergency? Oh, there were far too many thoughts racing through the poor Emma's mind, it was more than enough to drive her mad if she let it.

"Don't ignore me, Emma!" the man shouted, slamming his hands hard enough to hurt against the door with such ferocious force that she took a staggering step back in a weak attempt to flee, "Is Henry there, or is he not?"

"How..." she began, swallowing the lump in her throat to try and choke out a reply, "How did you know my name? Who are you?"

"Oh," he began, the almost seductive purr daring to return to his voice once more, "I know all about you, little Emma," said he, "The doctor speaks of you with such high regard I can barely get a moment of peace! And you know what else I know?" The way he fell silent, aside from the resumed tapping of his fingertips, suggested that he would not continue unless she prompted him.

"What? What else do you know, Mr. Hyde?" asked she, making an assumption as to the identity of the fellow.

"Oh!" the man exclaimed, sounding genuinely delighted, "So you know who I am, and yet you continue to refuse to let me in? How rude, how rude! What I know is that you are there all by your lonesome!"

"Henry has spoken to me about you," she returned, "And I am sure that he would agree that you best be on your way now, sir."

Even as she spoke, the man shook the door handle, clearly not going to accept her response. Why, he moved with such a determination that she dared entertain the prospect of his tearing the door right out of its frame. Oh how she wished he would leave! All desire to sleep had left her, but she would very much like to retreat to the sanctity of her bed nonetheless, and yet she felt as if she left now it would be even worse off for her than if she stayed.

"Then you obviously don't know your husband all that well then, now do you, little love? No, I reckon he would throw the door wide open and permit me enter right away! Just as you should be doing now!" He paused, slammed the door with a palm once again, "So let me in, enough of this bloody beating around the bush and just let me the fuck in before I lose my god damned temper!"  
If that was not him losing his temper, she loathed to imagine the possibility.

"Leave!" Emma shouted with more force than she expected she could muster, "Leave our property now, Edward! I will not let you in, you cannot enter without the key, so just leave now as you won't achieve whatever sick intent you might have here!"

"Is that so?" the man, Edward Hyde, asked, sounding all too amused by this, "This house has been as much my own as it was our dear doctor's, and you wish to deny me entrance, and to what end? So you can lie to yourself? So you can pretend all is well in your little world? Please, don't make me laugh!" Despite saying this, he needed to pause as he let out a horribly grating laugh. "I am terribly afraid, my dear, but you will find that I am quite full of surprises!"

Now, Emma had long since grown tired of this conversation, of the man's antics, of his stubbornness, his unrestrained emotions, everything about the man filled her with a displeasure that she never believed she was capable of until that moment. If he simply would not listen to her, she would leave. Actions supposedly spoke louder than words, so perhaps her point might at last make it through the self-importance that radiated from the man like a noxious smog. Letting out a pointed huff that she was sure he would be able to hear, she straightened her nightdress, noticing that it had gotten wrinkled in her foolish decision to investigate the strange noise she had heard, and decided there and then that the man could do whatever it was he might want to do in the yard. It was not her concern if he chose to sleep beneath the rosebushes or whatever else he decided to do to spite her.

"Well, goodnight, Mr. Hyde. I am off to bed," she said in a remarkable imitation of nonchalance, "Do as you will, but I hope you return to wheresoever it is you call home soon, the clouds threatened rain earlier."

Feeling quite pleased with herself, she turned and began to walk off again, offering up a silent pray to whoever might hear her that the man would leave before Henry was to return. She had been feeling particularly pleased with herself, if she so thought herself, but all this was lost in a heartbeat as a sound hit her ears that turned her blood to ice in an instant.

It was the sound of a key turning in the lock.


End file.
